To Pull at Your Heartstrings and Appease Your Imaginations
by Hannanball13
Summary: Mary and Marshall, pre-wedding. How can they let each other slip away? Songfic One-shots! (Some Chapters May Be Rated 'R')- [DISCLAIMER: Any musical lyrics included in these stories are property of the artists and by no means are meant to be plagiarized!]
1. Fell For You

**Perhaps this could be a songfic collection if you all like it!**

**Hope you enjoy! **

**XXX**

**Fell For You**

"_You crush my heart,  
I'm a mess and you're a work of art.  
Got your blessings going 0 to 5,  
Steal a kiss and I took a dive."_

_-Green Day_

_**Disclaimer: All lyrics included in italicized font are property of Green Day. They are meant as a framework to better understand the story. Oh, and in case were wondering In Plain Sight's not mine, either.**_

She had never tasted lips as luscious as his. They were salty and sweet to the braced touch of her own, the amazing flick of his tongue against the roof of her mouth and across her teeth was enough to send her melting in the heat of his steamy embrace. The air reeked of bourbon and wine, perhaps this is what had their hands skeptical to explore as they both knew in the vast logicality of sobriety they would never be all over each other like this.

It was only seconds they continued, but was enough to send Mary reeling backward at the realization of what she had begun to do, at what doors she had just unlocked, and the can of worms she had just pried open. She breathed in slowly, trying to process the moment in a drunkenly confused way, but just ended up shaking her head.

The night had gone awry. The drinks had kept coming and the nostalgia had only grown as the night grew darker and Marshall more charming. His brothers were arriving in a week to throw him an actual Bachelor Party huzzah, but he wanted a night out with Mary, knowing she probably wouldn't enjoy the numerous lady strippers who may be attending the real shebang (after all his brothers were throwing the bash). She ordered more wings than they could have eaten in the two hours' time Abigail had agreed to let them enjoy alone and Marshall called hour after hour to inform her he'd be home later. The very last call had him estimating he'd be home in the wee hours of the morning, possibly while the sun was coming up. Abigail was all but happy, but allowed the unusual behavior slide in hopes of him getting the time he needed with Mary out of his system _pre_ and not _post_ wedding.

It was abundantly clear Marshall had always intended to be a faithful man. He was raised in a household where the head honcho was a Marshal, so he was quite literally taught and trained basic manners and respect toward fellow men and women alike. What he had done didn't seem to faze him in the hazy alcohol induced disarray of judgment and he only grinned strangely, and then turned to leave, slurring some indecipherable phrases as he opened the door to the cab that had been waiting. Mary could still feel the cool touch of his hands on her face and the smile that had come over his mouth when he unlatched even as she had recoiled in confusion.

The idea of this situation having occurred was practically incomprehensible and she sputtered to herself as she entered her home, kicking aside one of Norah's toys and plopping down on the couch. Mark had taken the baby for the night, knowing that Mary may come home in this sort of state- he probably would have never guessed what would happen just on the doorstep in the midst of the drunkenness he predicted.

Mary peeled off her jacket and flung it across the room, resting her head on a throw pillow Jinx had forced her to place on her sofa. It was soft against her head and in a few moments her eyes felt heavy and the tingling sensation that had lingered on her lips faded and she was able to succumb to sleep.

"_And I went down,  
Like the speed of sound.  
You're out of sight,  
But not out of mind."_

It was barely daylight when Mary awoke with a start as her heart began to thud crazily in her chest. The events of the few hours prior roared around in her still slightly inebriated mind, crashing into each other at full speed as she tried to sort through it all. She smelled of his cologne although their contact had been short. She found herself stumbling into the bathroom and running the water in the tub. The idea of rinsing his scent from her body was most important as it may assist her to clear her mind of the Marshall induced fog steering her away from common sense. She kind of ached, but she assumed that was from the red wine still pulsating through her system.

It had been quick the way her heart had slowed, but not quickly enough. Usually it had been easy to quell her feelings in any situations, but not this morning. As she ripped each article of clothing from her body it seemed sweat trickled down her spine and her face faster and faster. She didn't bother to test the water as she submerged her body in it. The scorching temperature awoke her, but only seemed to make what was happening in her head less bearable. She may not have been completely in her right mind, but she still knew what she was feeling wouldn't be going away when the last drop of alcohol had been coursed through her veins.

She was sick to her stomach, vomiting over the toilet with her towel wrapped around her trying to focus on anyone and anything to keep herself from thinking of Marshall. It was painful to wonder what he was doing and painful to know he wasn't thinking of her. It caused her fear that a person so very far out of her grasp was the one and only thing she could think about at this very moment. She licked her lips but wished she hadn't for the memory only came back to her more vividly. Now, she was making herself feel foolish and becoming angry in the process.

She was angry, because after all of these years, it was only two weeks until he got married and now she was realizing the depth of her connection with Marshall Mann. It was not just friendship and a work partnership, but a remarkable affinity in every other sense. She had never burned underneath the fingertips of another man as she did under his and had never blushed at the idea of any man, beside him, having dared to caress her cheek or stroke her hair. Mary Shannon had finally admitted to herself that he was more than just her goofy best buddy, but a man of much more- he had taken her heart and he would keep it for the rest of her life as no man would ever build the kind of relationship with her that he had, because no man was capable of doing so.

"_I had a dream that I kissed your lips and it felt so true.  
Then I woke up as a nervous wreck and I fell for you.  
I'll spend the night living in denial."_

Mary's head pounded with a vengeance as she sat up entangled in the sheets of her bed.

Last night had been filled with shots of tequila and glasses of wine. It had been Brandi's first night out since she had given birth to her daughter and Mary had been dragged to a bar for a few drinks.

Her mouth tasted of cranberry vomit and her throat still burned from the fiery wrath of high proof liquor roaring in her still upset stomach. The sweat trickled down her face and she reeked of alcohol- leading her to believe she hadn't bathed at all. The memories of the night before came flooding back and suddenly, she realized Marshall had been a part of none.

She wiped her face, gulping as she pulled the sheets to her chin. Marshall still lingered in her thoughts, pulling at her heart strings and poking around at her feelings. She sat up again, holding herself together through her breakfast of three bottles of water, but she broke down passing by the framed pictures lining the hallway. There was one of Marshall, cradling the newborn Norah, Mary smirking mildly over his shoulder. It had been a gift from Stan and it had been too much then and way too much now.

She slid down the wall, sniffling and crying, wiping at her greasy face and heaving in huge amounts of air. She loved him, she loved him and she had lost him. Somewhere in the decade of partnership with Marshall Mann, she had fallen for him.

And then, inevitably she pushed her feelings aside for another time. She soothed herself, recovering from her screaming nerves and achiness. He was happy and that's all that mattered she reminded herself.

It would be the denial that kept her sane during and after the wedding ceremony.


	2. Fu k Time

**My first really Rated M chapter EVER! **

**Excuse its uncivilized diction. **

**Anyhow, I hope you still enjoy**

**This one is more to appease your imaginations….**

**XXX**

"_F**k Time." By: Green Day_

"_Baby, Baby it's Fuck Time  
You know I really wanna make you mine  
Take a look into my eyes  
I wanna hold you til' you're paralyzed"_

_**Disclaimer: This song is not mine, it is property of the band Green Day and is only being utilized for creative purposes and your entertainment**_

His hands ran her crazy the way they trailed down her sides. Tickling her breasts and sending a shockwave through her body. He swiped the hair away from her face. Oh how he'd always wanted to be on top of her, for once the one in full control. He caressed her cheek, watching her mesmerized expression quickly change to aroused as his hand made their way down her stomach past her belly button and directly between her legs. "Don't tease me." She begged as his fingertips danced around her thighs and he held her left breast in his other hand. Mary dug her knuckles into the muscles in his shoulder blades, slowly running her dainty paws down to his stomach exploring his abs. She had never dreamed she could get this close to this man. She took two fistfuls of his brown locks, pulling him down to her face, running her tongue around in his mouth. "I knew you would taste sweet." He mumbled between passionate kiss after passionate embrace.

She flicked her panties to the ground with her foot, now completely naked she tore his boxers from his groin. "Let's see it cowboy." She ordered, grabbing his buttocks and squeezing. Mary took him in, all of him. Why hadn't she given into these urges sooner? She wondered, nibbling at his ears and running her tongue from his ear lobe to his pecks.

"Are you ready?" he whispered into her ear. It figures he'd even be a gentlemen now. Usually, men hung like a horse were very vain.

"Just do it already!" she yelled. He was already erect, making his way into her. Mary grabbed the covers, clawing and gripping at her blankets, trying to control the volume of the moan that was making its way from deep within her gut. Impatient, she grabbed him by his hips and thrust herself upward, forcing him to quicken the pace. "Don't burn out on me." She implored.

"Never." He promised, inhaling a large intake of air and locking lips with her again, keeping his rhythm going as he played through her blonde strands.

"My turn to be on top." She ordered. Aggressively, Mary took him by the hips, switching roles mid thrust. She clawed into his muscular shoulders and he seemed to do everything but mind. He smiled and snickered under her lips once she found a rhythm they both could enjoy.

"We've waited so long." He gasped, pulling in and out of her with ease for she was slick now. Mary roared with appreciation each time he took her to him. His hands were firmly wrapped around her biceps, his grip hard and safe. She now had two handfuls of his hair, not as gently she tugged, causing him to roll over on top of her again. "You musn't be rough." He growled, slamming into her harder and harder. She only found it more pleasing, moaning and asking for more and more. Both of his mitts were cupping her breasts and he squeezed every now and then, sending the woman into more of an uproar. "Fuck, why do you have to be so good in the sack?!" She groaned, straddling him now, trying to keep her mind off of how they had gotten to this point.

It had been late working at the office on a case that dated back many years and Abigail had left hours ago at the sight of how much paperwork Mary and Marshall had to get through.

Alone and both tense and somewhat stressed, they tooled with memories of times when things were still sweet between them, the days that now looking back, were the good old ones everyone talked about in remembrance. He hadn't even married Abby yet, they had just kept putting off the date of the nuptials month by month until they were looking into the very far future for the ceremony, which they had already booked location, minister, and reception for. Neither would or even could explain the reason why they were putting their big day off. Perhaps it was a test period for Marshall, to see if he could actually function without having to be at Mary's beck and call. Obviously, Abigail had been right to wait. They were hot and sticky underneath each other's fingertips, but anxious to continue even as Marshall's phone buzzed endlessly with work related nonsense and some messages from none other than the fiancé herself.

It had been routine at first, the way they scribbled at pages side by side, but something seemed to snap as Delia made her way from the building and down the elevator, leaving the two to their own devices. Marshall sighed, scratching his head of hair with boredom whilst watching Mary; it was only seconds before he was enthused by her expression and intent toward the forms and the vigor in which she scratched with the ballpoint pen.

In the midst of it all, the kissing, the whispering and the touching, the full cup of coffee which Abigail had presented to Marshall hours earlier had been tipped by a stealthy motion to the nearest flat surface. They had caressed each other there for a little while, and Marshall had tooled with her sides with his tongue and lips. Mary had half expected him to chicken out when they made it to the futon in his office.

"_I'm a beggar, but I don't want a dime  
Ohhhh, Baby, Baby it's Fuck time"  
_

It was a roar of satisfaction he let out as he finally finished; it had been shortly following her climax and was a pleasant feeling to have been so in sync during the intimate time. He gave her one last, fulfilling slam to her pelvis and they let go of each other, exposed completely, entangled in each other's arms and legs, breathing heavily in the silence which neith of them dared to fill.

It wasn't even awkward as they pulled their clothes back on, but something had changed in Marshall that night and Mary had seen it most prominent while he cleaned the coffee spill off the carpeting of the office floor and organized the desk which was in disarray because of the act they had begun to commit upon it. She sighed before nodding a farewell to the Marshal in disheveled dressy garb and made her way to the balcony to let the coolness of the Albuquerque night overcome her and calm the fireworks that were still rampaging within her body.

"_You know I really want to make you mine  
There's nothing left to say, yeahhhh"_

**Thanks for reading! Please review with your reactions and opinions!**


	3. The Reason

**Hope you all enjoy this installment, somewhat an omniscient narrative, but partially in Abigail's perspective. (As a change!) **

"_Right from the start,  
you were a thief,  
you stole my heart,  
and I your willing victim"_

_-"Just Give Me a Reason" By, Pink_

**D**_**isclaimer- any lyrics in this fanfiction are property of the artist Pink and are meant for entertainment purposes only!**_

"Love is not planned," her mother always parroted as the young red head called with her troubles. Man after man she found flaw after flaw, a most unfortunate habit in her as it seemed all of these suitors were perfect- perfect for anyone but Abigail. Although everyone was handsome and most gentlemanly, she could never grasp a completely feeling relationship with the many that had crossed her path. No one seemed to take her breath away the way she had always hoped he would, or sweep her off her feet with a simple gesture or tender embrace as she always dreamed.

A few years in ABQ P.D had given her most insightful run-ins with fellow policemen, and they were not as romantic as she had once believed. They enjoyed no philosophy or musings of any kind, just the occasional grunt or talk of weaponry and brutal stabbings. Perhaps she was being too hopeful in her search for love, but she would not give in. After all it had been determination and persistence that had landed her this spot on this force, and she was bound to use the likeness to win her a Prince Charming.

Marshall Mann was tall. That is the very first thing she realized of the muscular Marshal, and the fact that he was 'Marshal Marshall', but aside from the obvious he struck her in many ways, mostly as handsome and intriguing in such a custom that drew her closer. They had become acquainted in passing, always being friendly and sending a wave in each other's direction when they caught sight of each other, but never really giving each other that second, interested glance. Besides that, he always seemed attached to the hip of his partner, a blonde, snarky woman with broad shoulders and strong opinions. Abigail didn't think twice of her at first, until that very first date.

He had been everything she thought he would be- incredibly daring, rather charming and remarkably dapper. He fit well into his role as a Marshal, but did not speak much of his duties in the force. He raved about poetry and could recite Shakespearean soliloquys at the snap of your fingers.

"Who is that blonde I always see you around with?" She asked curiously at one time, nearly falling off her chair at the way his eyes had lit up from the mention of the busty lady he was shoulder to shoulder with every time they met.

"Why that's _Mary_," he'd say enthusiastically and usually, that would be the end of it.

"_I let you see the parts of me  
that weren't all that pretty  
and with every touch  
you fixed them"_

It had been a few months into the relationship that she had realized how serious it was, and when she noticed how much this Mary actually did matter. After asking advice about Marshall, she was stung with a rude response and then ranted at for a few moments before a somewhat heartfelt apology which she later shrugged off when learning of the woman's untimely and unwanted pregnancy.

Still, if only this had been the last of Mary.

The two were content with each other, giving into their lusts and urges freely now as they were both very open of their feelings for each other. On one occasion Marshall claimed he cared for her "quite deeply" and she had been over the moon at such an advance. The ring had come later, but so had the new, more noticeable rage of Mary Shannon, now bearing a baby and a whole mess of troubles Marshall involved himself in.

Abigail had felt him slipping from her grasp each night he pulled from her arms to rescue his best friend once again, and she thought most definitely that she'd be able to deal with it, but alas, she could not. She cracked under the relentless weight of their friendship; she had even cried for the first time in his arms, at that time never feeling more disappointed in her life.

She had thought she had finally found the one that was hers and gave him a difficult ultimatum, and that was _to choose._ Abigail did not care how difficult it must have been, but just wanted her heart to stop aching, and wanted to continue on with the relationship that made her happiest. Never did she think that asking such a thing from her fiancé would hurt him or cause his unhappiness. She came to a rude awakening.

"_Just give me reason,  
just a little bit's enough,  
just a second we're not  
broken just bent"_

They had fallen apart three, short days before the wedding, when Abigail had scolded him for his decision to invite Mary to the nuptials. He raged that night, angry and tired of her complaints regarding the best friend she had forced him to give up for her. She had attempted to make herself feel better by pretending she was right. Somewhere deep down inside she knew she was not. It seemed her heart beat for him, but maybe it had only been the thought of him. She missed the way they _had been_ dearly, what it _had been_ like when they were new and fresh and not awkward and angry. "I love you," was a phrase said less often in their household during those days.

She choked back her own tears watching the enraged fires burn within his pale eyes. She had taken away something important to him, for her own selfish desires and now could never have him the same way again. They were crumbling, steadily but quickly and they weren't going to be able to piece themselves together again this time. He drifted away, immersing himself in his work, the way she had done to keep her mind preoccupied when that jealousy of Mary had eaten away at her.

Abigail had learned a bunch of things of the man she had wanted to wed, and the most important was that he was honest. Even in those days they fought tooth and nail with the underlying cause being his former partner, he had not seen her, he had not mentioned her, but that did not mean he did not think of her.

Marshall even kept a picture- one of him, Mary and Norah on the day she was born in his desk drawer, away from the eyes of his co-workers and from the grasp of her. She had found it one day, red faced and mad and had planned to confront him about it, but caught a glimpse at the miserable cloud around him that very same day, and the tension between him and who use to be his best friend.

He left her after finding the frame broken and the picture torn on the floor of his office, giving her no room for explanation and no time to make up an excuse. Marshall had felt the last of his heart strings snap at the sight of the shattered glass and the scene of his favorite photograph destroyed, and decided, perhaps she would have to find another man to love.

She did not feel the same way, she did not _want _to find another man, and became bitter of him. On occasion she would see him, strolling in the park, with a blonde child in his arms. He grinned, and he laughed with such a twinge of whimsy in his eyes it made her look away in pain of what she had given up and shake in anger at the love she had created between two people who actually deserved it.

_"….and we can learn to love again."_

**Please Review and tell me what you think! It seems no one likes this series?**


	4. Love

"_Love" By: Sugarland_

"_Is it the face of a child?  
Is it the thrill of danger?  
Is it the kindness we see in the eyes of a stranger?"_

_**All lyrics included in this fiction are property of the band Sugarland and are only meant for your entertainment. **_

It had happened all so quickly. The small boy was crossing the road, having looked both ways as Mary was stopped at an intersection three feet from a crosswalk where he crossed every day. He did this at the same time, and the same way daily. He always smiled at Mary, his toothy grin revealing one of his missing front teeth each time. Sometimes, he even gestured pleasantly in her direction. His back pack hung on him, much too large for the small child.

Up until this year, he had been escorted by who Mary assumed was his mother, he gladly tagged along by her side unfazed by even the hottest days in the New Mexican sun. Now, he gallivanted with extra pep in his step and a wonderful sparkle in his eyes that was his new found freedom.

He was blonde and his hair curled at his ears, much like Norah's did presently. Whenever she was running late, she'd wonder if the child had gotten to his destination safely and she held a special place in her newly maternal mind until she saw him the next day. He always looked well-groomed every day- happy and cheerfully prancing across the sidewalk.

It had been that morning she had awaited his daily advance across the front of her car and he did. He passed along, waving happily at her familiar face, unknowing of the erratically speeding automobile coming from the opposite direction. The last expression he made was quizzical, wondering why Mary's faced had twisted into surprise. She flung her door open, reaching him to hear one of his final breaths. Lying in his own crimson, he reached for Mary, pressing his small fingers to her face weakly which was now stained with her frantic tears, and he wiped them away.

Mary implored him not to give into the heaviness of his eyelids, but he had already started giving in and right before they shut she witnessed the twinkling depths of his blue eyes go dull with lifelessness. The kindness that had once filled his face with wonder was now blank. She kneeled beside him, pressing her hand to his chest to feel the stillness of his heart. She moved away his blonde locks to reveal the large gash on his scalp where had struck the pavement on impact. She shivered in fear as she still felt warmth underneath her fingertips, and sadness overcame her.

"_Is it making you laugh?  
Is it letting you cry?"_

Mary swiped her WITSEC I.D. card through the scanner, entering through the doors, still horrified by the dried, brown blood caked to her jeans. Some was encrusted under her fingernails; a smear was up her arm and a little had stained her jacket. Her face was void of any feeling as she dropped her bag by her desk, ignorant of her co-workers stares and the gaping mouth of Delia. She fumbled with the door handle, realizing her palms were sweaty and she was shaking. The door opened, and she stepped into the office, closing it behind her and then caught Marshall's attention with a loud, blood-curdling sob. He was immediately horrified, attempting to leave his chair.

The cries caused tremors though her entire body and she quivered and sniffed wiping away the tears that kept streaming down her solemn face and then, trickled down her neck. He came to her, questioning her only once and letting her fall into his arms, not caring about the mess she was, swiping the hair from her damp visage. Her mouth was open, but only gut-wrenching sounds of great sadness could be heard rather than the words she wanted to speak. He took her in his grasp and she filled him perfectly. Mary howled in heartsickness on his shoulder, pressing her cheek against his collar bone. Marshall caressed her face gingerly, unknowing of the reason she was so profoundly upset. Fear ravaged his heart and mind, but mostly it stung him because it was his very own Mary, who was disturbed.

"_I say it's love…"_

**Please Review and tell me what you think! Apologies for the briefness of this chapter!**


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